


Anger Management

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anger Management, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Forced Bonding, Gift Giving, Internal Conflict, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 09:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15883161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: Shizuo's tantrums have finally gone too far, and he has been ordered to undergo anger management therapy or else face a jail sentence.





	Anger Management

Shizuo Heiwajima is at Izaya Orihara’s apartment not to kill him, but on the orders of the Toshima Ward Judiciary. His tantrums have finally gone too far, and he has been ordered to complete 10 anger management sessions or to face a jail sentence. At first, it’s not so bad. His therapist is kind and understanding, practical and wise, and not the patronising fruit loop he’d been expecting. He learns some self-monitoring tips from her, and new ways of looking at situations that set him off. But this compulsory part of the course - apologising to Izaya for uprooting a lamp post and throwing it at him, twice - is a fucking joke. He almost considers going to jail after all.

“But I missed,” he points out to his therapist, not for the first time.

“I don’t think that’s the point,” she says gently. 

It’s pointless. Izaya will just goad and goad him until he snaps all over again, throws something worse than a lamppost, and the whole thing would be for nothing.

“Try anyway,” she insists.

So he’s here, trying. He’s at Izaya’s door with a gift bag containing matcha flavoured chocolates. The bastard liked bitter foods. He probably saved his victims tears to have with dinner instead of wine. 

Said bastard opens the door to Shizuo’s knock. He doesn’t look at all surprised to see him there.

“Are you here for your anger management thingy?” he says, like this happened all the time.

“Yes,” Shizuo growls. 

Izaya notices the gift bag then and stares at it. He’s so surprised he doesn’t even smirk.

“Are you letting me in or what?” Shizuo complains.

“Right, right,” Izaya says, stepping back to hold open the door. “Do I have to sign anything? You know, to prove I’m satisfied with your apology?”

“It’s anger management flea, not community service,” Shizuo growls. “And it was optional. I’m here out of the goodness of my heart.”

“How sweet,” Izaya says blithely. “Have a seat. I’ll make some tea.”

He trots off before Shizuo can tell him not to bother. He doesn’t want to stay long, but of course Izaya will want to drag this out for as long as possible. And Shizuo will have to let him. He sighs, slumping further on the couch.

Izaya comes back with their tea, and a grin plastered all over his face. Shizuo is already twitching with the urge to crush the chocolates and hurl the tea across the room.

“So, how is your anger management going?” Izaya says pleasantly, pouring tea, putting forward a little cup of sugar cubes with a spoon. “I don’t envy your therapist, he or she must really have their work cut out for them. Maybe there’s a big bonus in it for them. They’ll probably need therapy themselves after 10 weeks of your issues.”

Shizuo doesn’t react. He’d been prepared for this, and he knows Izaya is just getting warmed up. The informant is watching him closely, waiting. Shizuo knows he’s going to snap, but he wants to make the effort anyway. Then at least he can tell his therapist that he truly did try. 

Shizuo adds a sugar sube to his tea and takes a sip. To his surprise, it is a sweet and mild jasmine, not the bitter stuff he had expected Izaya to serve him. 

“So, what’ve you got there,” Izaya says, nodding at the giftbag. Oh, right.

“It’s for you,” Shizuo says, sliding it across the coffee table towards him. “I’m sorry I threw a lamppost at you.”

Izaya laughs with delight.

“My opinion of our justice system has suddenly increased.”

Shizuo watches him remove the tissue paper. His eyes light up with delight, almost like a kid, rather than the malicious vindictive adult he is.

“Thanks, Shizu-chan,” he says. “This may be a sweet I actually like.”

“Well, no point in getting you something you don’t,” Shizuo grumbles.

They were quite a rare make. They’d been on offer in the store. 

“I’m assuming they’re not poisoned,” Izaya continues. “That would not be in the spirit of anger management.”

“They’re not poisoned,” Shizuo growls. “I’ll have one if you don’t believe me.”

“Ah, but you probably have an inhuman immune system,” Izaya points out, and again Shizuo has to fight the urge to throttle him. How long does he have to sit here for? He silently counts to 20.

Izaya watches him closely, not touching his chocolates.

“I’m impressed!” he says when Shizuo doesn’t erupt. “Your therapist is doing an excellent job. What’s the method - lobotomy, electric collar…? You give them my regards.”

“Are you going to eat one or what?” Shizuo says, to distract him.

“Yes,” Izaya says, and starts to undo the delicate ribbon. “They look worth the risk.”

He takes a matcha chocolate and pops it into his mouth.

“Damn, these are good.”

He sounds genuine.

“Have one,” he offers.

Shizuo shakes his head.

“I don’t like dark chocolate.”

“There are milk ones too.”

Shizuo glances in the box. So there were. He hadn’t really looked at the packaging properly. He takes one of the lighter coloured chocolates. It’s rich and unbitter, melting on his tongue. 

“Good, right?” Izaya says, watching him. “I’ll have to make you do an anger management course more often.”

Shizuo grumbles something, but the chocolate had placated him somewhat. Izaya starts reading the calorific information on the box, which somehow annoys Shizuo as much as an insult. The flea would probably lick the rest of them and then throw them away. Shizuo doesn’t want to bicker however so keeps quiet.

“I better go,” he says, when he’s finished his tea. Izaya is still reading the box, which is a bit weird. The informant looks up like he’d forgotten Shizuo was there.

“Mm? Oh, right. Thanks again.” He winks at Shizuo and walks him to the door. “Good luck with the rest of your therapy. I hope you get the help you need.”

“Fuck off and die,” Shizuo says, and walks away with Izaya’s laughter ringing in his ears. 

It is only once he is inside the life, doors safely closed, that he realises the visit had been a success. He hadn’t lost his temper once.  

-

His therapist is not as surprised, and therefore not as victorious, as Shizuo is. Then again, she doesn’t know Izaya. Although Izaya had been more subdued than usual during the visit.

“People respond well to kindness,” she says.

_ Kindness and chocolate _ , Shizuo thinks, making a metal note of the brand of chocolate for Kasuka’s birthday. Perhaps bitter chocolate worked like catnip for Izaya. Izayanip. The thought makes him smile. 

“Let’s talk about your relationship with Izaya,” his therapist suggests.

Shizuo’s smile fades.

“Let’s not.”

“He’s important. He seems to be a significant trigger in all your rages.”

“Well, duh."

She ignores this.

“How did you meet?"

“In high school.”

She looks at him, waiting.

“We had a mutual friend who introduced us. I didn’t like him. I think I threw something or chased him or something. That’s how it all started.”

She nods and makes a note in her book.

“So you admit at least some responsibility for all the fights?”

“I…” This feels somewhat underhanded. But that doesn’t make it untrue. It is a fact Shinra has lay before him many times. 

“You’re not going to like this.”

He looks at her warily.

“How about taking Izaya one more gift? It doesn’t have to be expensive, it can be something silly, even. It’ll be a good way to test some of the strategies we’ve talked about.”

“I don’t get it,” Shizuo complains. “You say I’m doing well and then you go and punish me.”

“It’s not a punishment, it’s just another challenge. They don’t stop feeling like challenges until you do them.”

“But if I get him a gift for starting the first fight, it’ll be like admitting everything is my fault,” Shizuo argues.

“No it won’t. It will be a grown up thing to do.”

“He’ll laugh at me,” Shizuo grumbles.

“It doesn’t matter if he laughs. Nothing he does matters, remember? It’s only your reactions that matter.”

Shizuo sighs, knowing when he’s beaten. It’s his last session anyway.

-

He takes Izaya an unopened bottle of sake he’d received one Christmas. He’s trying to cut down on drinking, and it didn’t make economical sense to spend money on someone who hated him, even if it was ‘something silly,’ as his therapist suggested.

Izaya is surprised to see him this time.

“Did they double your sentence?” he says, seeing the bag Shizuo is carrying.

“It’s not community service, it’s - “ Shizuo stops himself when he sees Izaya grinning. “You gonna let me in or what?”

“Sure. Is that what I think it is?” Seeing the not so discreet bottle peeking out of the bag.

“Well, it’s not a bottle of water.”

“I’ll get glasses,” Izaya crows. He brings the chocolates as well, which he has made decent progress on. Not as much progress as Shizuo himself would have made, but still decent. His secretary had probably helped. 

“So, why?” Izaya asks simply.

Shizuo sighs and explains.

Izaya snickers. “So she’s gone right back to your childhood? You’ll have a lot of apologies to make then. You’ll be bankrupt by the time you’re done.”

“Not everyone, that’d be stupid. Everyone meaningful.”

“Meaningful?” Izaya repeats, catching his eye.

“Not meaningful,” Shizuo corrects, flustered. “Just, you know, not a stranger.”

Izaya doesn’t pursue it. He pours them another glass each.

“To anger management.”

They clink glasses and drink. It’s good sake. Shizuo almost regrets giving it to his enemy. At least he is getting a generous share.

“Another glass?” Izaya offers when they’re done.

“I better not,” Shizuo says, not very convincingly. He looks at the bottle wistfully.

“Half a glass,” Izaya says, pouring it. “You’ll hit rush hour if you leave now anyway.”

Half a glass each later, there is very little left in the bottle itself.

“We might as well finish it,” Izaya says, pouring with exaggerated care. He must be quite tipsy. Shizuo is himself.

“You’re too skinny,” he says to Izaya, of all things.

The informant gives him a smile which is not quite a smirk.

“You need to work on your insults, Shizu-chan.” He leans over to pat Shizuo’s head. He leans a bit too far however and almost tumbles to the floor, save for Shizuo catching him just in time.

“You’re an idiot, Izaya-kun.” He slurs his words as he speaks, keeping hold of the other’s arm to keep him from collapsing in his lap. Izaya puts his hand on Shizuo’s thigh to steady himself. Then he moves in instead of pushing himself away, and then he is kissing Shizuo, sinking in to the other’s lap as an afterthought. 

Shizuo holds on to the informant’s arms, somewhere between pushing him off and...not. The kiss tastes good. Izaya’s pulls his arm free of Shizuo’s grip and moves it between Shizuo’s legs. He’s going to come all over his clothes, he thinks distantly. Unless he takes his clothes off. But that would mean…

He comes to with a muffled cry, and pushes Izaya on to the floor.

Izaya hits himself on the table on his way down, judging by the noise and the anger blazing in his eyes.

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry, I - “

He is still hard. Izaya is hard too. Shizuo shakes his head and runs.

-

How could this happen now, after his last session? He can’t afford to speak to someone out of his own pocket. But how the hell was he meant to muddle through this on his own? It was his own fault, buying sake and drinking so much of it. He agonises over this for a week, sulking around his friends and telling no-one. His lessons from therapy keep coming back to him. He has to man up face what's on his mind. He has to go back to that fucking apartment, even if Izaya has probably booby-trapped the place for his next visit.

He goes all the way there and almost ducks out right at the front door. He forces himself to knock before that fantasy can get any further.

The door opens. Izaya sees it’s him, narrows his eyes and promptly slams the door, caught just in time by Shizuo’s foot.

“Flowers this time?” he sneers.

“I don’t have anything this time,” Shizuo admits.

“It’ll be a crap apology then.”

“I’m not here to apologise.”

Izaya glares at him through the crack in the door. Shizuo could easily kick it open all the way, but that’s not exactly the mood he’s trying to create.

“All right, I am. I’m sorry I pushed you off, OK? I was freaked out. I was very freaked out. Not that it was bad- "

“Stop talking.”

“Come on, doesn’t the thought of it freak you out too a bit? And anyway, I bought stuff for you twice now - if anything you should get me something.”

“I am going to phone my building security and get them to come up here right now,” he snarls in response. “And I am going to phone up whatever got you on anger management and say it didn’t work. You need to be locked up.”

Shizuo does kick the door in then. Izaya manages to sidestep it just in time, but doesn’t manage to avoid Shizuo’s fist in his shirt. Shizuo yanks him forward to kiss him, so hard the informant’s feet lift off the ground. Izaya gives him a half hearted kick, then lifts his legs to coil around Shizuo instead. The contact is delicious. Shizuo puts his hands under Izaya’s thighs to hold him there. 

“...don’t drop me,” Izaya mutters.

“I won’t,” Shizuo reassures him. He makes for the stairs and pauses. “Any chocolates left?”

Izaya looks wary.

“Some. Why?”

“Fuel. I want to stay in bed for a while.”


End file.
